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For many years I have wanted to write about the inside of an institution--not a description of buildings and plans, of acres and occupations, but of the underlying spirit. Here is a little community with its vocations and avocations, its business and pleasures. It is not a place of gloom and sadness. It is a cheerful little village whose inhabitants are the happiest in the world. Those whose minds have not developed normally grow up physically but retain their childish faith and confidence. They have no complex problems to solve. They are not concerned with the serious task of making a living. Their wants are anticipated and their comforts are provided; why should they not be happy? But to many people the word "Institution" means repression or punishment. As a matter of fact, it is a place of expression and encouragement. And, so that I may feel that I am writing in a personal way, I have chosen a mythical friend named Robinson, and I am supposing that he is beginning his career as the superintendent of an institution. I am trying to give him the "feel" of things, hoping all of the time that the lessons of life that we daily learn in dealing with our boys and girls, the innocents of the world, may be of help to anyone who has to live in the great rushing, striving world just outside our doors.

Training School at Vineland (Vineland, N.J.)